Dib and Squee Down in the Deeps
by Senri
Summary: Dib is forced to do three hundred hours of community service after a fight with Zim goes awry. Adventure follows. Zim will also be a main player, but this website is a butt and I can only list the story with two characters.
1. Chapter 1

The damages, post the latest debacle, included: three water towers reduced to slag and steam. The upper half of one very expensive high-rise building melted (luckily the rampage had taken place during the night-time). A public park reduced to flaming playground equipment and splinters that once were trees. An indeterminate number of cars blown to little bits. One public school tremendously defaced (Dib and Zim would have been very popular for that, if they'd been anyone else). A construction crane blown into tinker toys. Several highways shredded like fruit-roll-ups a cat had put its claws through. Decapitation of a historic commemorative statue in another public park five miles away from the aforementioned public park. Five hundred and six trees felled, not including those exploded into toothpicks. The gates of the city stove in. Three elephants in the city zoo dead of heart attacks (very sad). Two thousand nine hundred seventeen people without power or running water until the infrastructure was repaired. Several hundred people more than that very upset in general about all of these things.

The carnage wouldn't have been abnormal, but Zim and Dib got caught that time.

The latter was what led them, finally, to the county courthouse. Zim had gone up first and Dib had had the gloating pleasure of watching him saddled with cleaning out the city's entire sewage system to make up for his bad deeds.

Of course, Dib's case was open and shut too.

They had already given the worst possible (probably) punishment to Zim. It was with this in mind that Dib faced his own sentence. Conviction was inevitable, but he was still a minor so he didn't have to worry about a permanent record at least. As such Dib stared into the judge's rheumy eyes with a feeling of having not much to lose.

"Well, sonny, I'm gonna give you a choice now." The judge, a ponderous man with a slablike forehead reminiscent of both gorilla faces and sixties architecture, had been munching on gum throughout the trial and continued chomping away between each word. "We have here a case of serious behavioral misconduct." Chomp. "And you have a record, sonny." Munch. "Now, I consider myself a kindhearted gentleman, so I am going to give you a choice." Slurp. The judge paused. Dib kept on staring right into his face.

"Pick your fate, boy. Choose wisely. You may elect to undergo twen-ty rounds of electroshock therapy plus a possible lobotomization upon finishing treatment, depending on your progress over the regimen. Or you may choose to give three hundred hours of your time to the City Center for Disadvantaged Children What Suffer From the Headworms, in the hopes that this will endow you with an increased community spirit, more respect for community property, and a sense of responsibility as a citizen for our city properties. What'll it be, son?"

He knew it was hopeles, and Dib knew his choice (ugh) would inevitably be the latter – a lobotomy was just too much a risk! But he had to at least _try_ and speak up for himself.

"Everything I _do _is _already_ community service, uh, your honor! I know the damage to city property was... kind of a lot... but it's all in the name of keeping earth safe by stopping _Zim_!" Dib flung a gesture towards where his mortal enemy sat sulking and twiddling his thumbs in electrified handcuffs on the courtroom bench. Zim had perked up in interest when the word "lobotomy" appeared and was now watching Dib with his horrible fakey fake blue eyes. Sensing an interjection was nigh, Dib sped up his talking. "Don't tell me you can't see he's an alien! He's got green skin, for crying out loud! And you picked him up wearing a bodysuit made with bizarre alien technology! Come _on_!"

"RIDICULOUS!" Zim shrieked with insectile outrage. "Our costumes were merely props for... ehhh... a school play!"

"Oh, COME ON!"

"SILENCE! And we were... _practicing_! Practicing for this _mighty spectacle_, ooh -"

"_You can't possibly believe that -_" Dib whipped back around to face the judge and flinched as the gavel thundered down.

"ORDER. Settle down, both you boys." The judge gave Dib a Look. Exactly what kind of a look, it would have taken a long time to put into words, but it was definitely a Look.

"... That's just really dumb, I mean, his excuse, it's dumb," Dib blurted ("IT IS NOT!" That familiar, loathed voice squalled, and then came the sound of irritated grunting as courtroom guards put Zim in his place). Dib smiled ingratiatingly as the judge's face became stiffer and somehow even frownier. "Um, I'll do the community service, please."

And that was that. Bang went the gavel, again. Court adjourned. Dib and Zim were ejected from the premises without further delay.

Membrane sent a chauffeur to take him home, which was some kind of balm at least. A chauffeur was better than having to fight the city bus system. On the other hand, he'd sent one of his floating viewscreens with a prerecorded message in lieu of actually coming himself. A prerecorded scolding, to be precise.

"Property damage to the city is unacceptable, son!" Membrane buzzed over and over. "Especially when it's not in the name of _science_! Your mech bodysuit privileges are now _revoked_!"

Dib, who'd had fits biting his tongue and letting other people talk all day, finally burst. "But Dad! This was _for the good of all mankind!_ Who cares about historic statues and city parks and buildings and – and stuff?"

The recording played over his outburst of course. "Your mech bodysuit privileges are now _revoked_!"

"It was for PLANET EARTH, Dad!"

"Especially when it's not in the name of _science_!" And that was the ride home. It was a huge relief to run up th stairs and fling himself onto his bed, lie there groaning and feeling sorry for himself because no one else did and think about how many hours he was losing that he could be using to chase Zim around or search for Pigfeets or finally trap the Garbage Disposal Faeries or other stuff. There was nothing for it now really. His only comfort was that Zim was saddled with an obnoxious job too, and the alien would probably do some techno-cheating feat and get the job done in a tenth of the time Dib would have to work. And then he'd gloat about it. Another setback!

Anyway.

With all that: that was how two days later, Dib found himself on the sidewalk in front of the City Center for Disadvantaged Children What Suffer From the Headworms.

It wasn't so bad, if he but knew. Adventure awaited.

* * *

So does anybody remember me?

;)

That's right. A new fic in this fandom, after all these years. The fandom that started me writing! It feels nostalgic and weird and good. The idea bit me and wouldn't let go, so I decided to exorcise it by writing.

This IS a fusion with JCV's JTHM/Squee! comics, so ratings will change. I look forward to posting more chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

It was commonly said that a journey of a thousand miles began with a single step. Dib had first run across the proverb in a fortune cookie, and it stuck in his head as a cliché and a truism. The very same homily held true in this case: three hundred hours began with five minutes smooth-talking the receptionist (which he could totally handle). Dib went on in, the door jingling as he pushed it open.

"Blech." The first thing he noticed was the smell of stale feet and pocket lint that permeated the room. The second thing he noticed was that apparently Ms. Bitters was working the desk.

Dib froze. Too late. She looked up, the motion accompanied by a sepulchral series of pops as old bones shifted. Her forward-thrust vulture head swung in his direction, and the musty voice ground out: "Yyyeeees?"

"Ms. Bitters," he said in shock. "Uh."

"Are you Dib?"

"Yeah. Uh, I didn't know you worked two jobs."

"I don't. I have a large family." Her mouth pinched up at him. "I believe you're in my sister's claaass? Yes, I've heard all about you." By the tone he suspected she hadn't heard good things.

"Okay." He was rendered a little helpless by the surprise (and, all right, the creeping horror) of this. The world did not need more Bitterses. "Um, I'm here to volunteer today. Uh, I'm tutoring someone."

"Yes you are. I have just the person. The skool released an extensive dossier regarding your history and proclivities. Based on your psychological profiling, we believe you will compliment this young specimen well." More grinding, the sounds of bones crunching together, and she rose from her swivel chair and glided around the desk. Dib remembered how to walk and scooted after her. They went down a hall, Bitters leading. The rest of the place seemed to be as dingy and smelly as the front – Dib imagined Zim would be raving about the stink, and then thought about Zim crawling through the septic system, knee-deep in dookie and fighting off rabid sewer rats. It was a comforting image. Uplifting.

"Is there a plan I should be following or something?" Dib said lamely. They were really going DEEP into the building. How big was the place?

"Return the child with all appendages attached and you can do what you like. He has all of his shots and his spirit is completely crushed, as it is in all of the children who come to our facility." Bitters stopped at one door that looked more or less identical to all the others, resting her hand on the doorknob. "The boy is already _doomed_. Your paltry efforts won't cause him any more suffering."

"Uh, does he have a name?"

Bitters picked him up by the scruff instead of answering. She pulled the door open and tossed him into the room. With his backpack over his shoulder, Dib couldn't turn the fall into a roll; he caught himself on hands and knees instead, wincing.

"You may begin your tutoring session," Bitters snarled. "Remember, both of you! When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss reaches out its _disgusting_ tendrils into the moist reaches of your brains, and makes a home for itself there!"

The door slammed. Dib got up.

The room wasn't large. It was furnished with a light folding table and chairs, no windows, and fluorescent lights humming overhead. It looked kind of like how someone would decorate an interrogation room. Sitting on one of the chairs, huddled against the backrest really, was Dib's tutee.

He looked about nine. Somehow gaunt, though, even through the baby fat plumping out his cheeks, or under it, maybe – maybe it was the eyes, which were deep-set with dark circles under them, watery brown, and nervous. There was a large metal collar locked around his neck, bizarrely advanced for the room, colored lights blinking around its edge now and again. A lead led from the collar and connected to a loop screwed in the wall.

"Uh, hi," said Dib.

The kid blinked. He looked like a scared bird flattening down all his feathers, trying not to be noticed. His lips parted; the sound that emerged was tiny, high pitched, utterly petrified.

_"Squee!"_

And that was it: Dib's first meeting with Todd Casil.

First thing, Dib sat down in the other chair, stashing his backpack on the floor. Squee-boy didn't move, except for his eyes, which rolled to follow Dib's every move. Dib pulled out a notebook and pen from his backpack and put them on the table neatly. Then he pulled out a can of lukewarm Poop Cola (he'd been carrying it all day), tapped on the top so it wouldn't blow up in his face, and cracked it open.

Squee-boy jumped at the sound. Dib felt like a monster. He nudged the can carefully across the table, kidwards. "Want some?"

Squee-boy sucked in a rapid breath. Dib withdrew carefully to his side of the table. "You can have it. My name's Dib. What's yours?" No answer. Dib babbled on. "I'm here to tutor you! I guess they didn't tell you that, huh? That's yours, the soda, y'know. I'm going to be working here for, um, a while I guess. Two hours today. I have three hundred hours of community service to do because I go caught giving the class alien a hard time. And uh, doing property damage, I guess." He pointed at the collar. "Hey, that doesn't look comfortable, want me to take it off? I bet I can."

He paused just a moment, and really he was ready to take the conversation (such as it was) away again. But Squee-boy opened his mouth and Dib caught himself near reflexively on a breath, and waited.

It came out a whisper: "What?"

"That collar. Uh, want me to get it off?"

"Nnn," a headshake. A tiny one. "Alien?"

Dib blinked in blank surprise. "Yeah. In my class."

"Your class?"

"Yeah. He's a jerk."

Squee-boy stared at him. Dib stared back. There was no jeering or laughing, not even a giggle. Not even an eyeroll. Just those eyes trained on him, and the lights on the collar blinking away.

There was a whole spiel on Zim that Dib had practically memorized. He could whip it out at any occasion. But Dib found himself tongue-tied, instead. He felt like if he got going, he'd drown the kid or something.

"Want me to take the collar off?" he asked instead. Again.

This time, he was rewarded with a nod. Dib hopped off his chair and came around the table. He had to get up close to Squee-boy, right up against his grimy neck, and he was a grimy kid. Dib could see his shirt was kinda threadbare too. His jeans weren't any better. There was a little metal panel on the collar anyway, which Dib flipped up. Presented with a mini-keyboard he took a few minutes to tick away at the keys. It wasn't actually that tough, except the keyboard was small. Looked like there was a whole computer locked away in there. Tap, tap, tap, and the collar cracked open suddenly via the motion of some invisible hinge. A pneumatic kinda _pchooo_. Dib maneuvered the collar off Squee-boy entirely, and then let it drop to bang against the wall. Then felt awkward again. Backed up from the kid who was still frozen in his seat, squeezed his eyes shut and laughed.

"The headworms did a number on you, huh?"

"I don't have any head worms," Squee-boy said. "My mommy and daddy sent me here because they don't wanna hire a babysitter and it's free."

"Haha." It wasn't really a laugh, just a stupid noise. Dib dropped his hands to his sides. "Hey, why don't we get outta here?"

It wasn't actually hard to leave, as it turned out. Bitters hadn't locked the door and she didn't even look up as they pattered by the front desk, Dib taking swigs of his soda as they went. He could just leave, he'd bet. This kid wasn't gonna say anything to anyone. But now Squee-boy was right at his heels, still following Dib's every move, plus he'd listened about Zim – at least, he hadn't laughed in Dib's face right off. So.

The Practically A Mausoleum for Young Living Children Supposedly With the Headworms, or whatever it was called, actually wasn't in a completely horrible part of the city. It turned out there was a coffee shop down the way. Dib let Squee-boy walk farther away from the road, with Dib on the outside part of the sidewalk. Squee-boy, okay, Squee was easier, Squee was so jumpy that he wound Dib up a lot tighter too.

He was way too young for coffee (and not like the kid needed anything else that would tweak his nerves) but Dib marched him on in and ordered cocoa and a latte anyhow, and two ham and cheese croissants (extra hammy!). They sat near the back of the café. Dib had noticed that Squee watched the other people on the sidewalk, not to mention the other patrons in the café, with obsessive alertness, and he kind of wanted to talk to the kid. On top of all that it looked like Squee could use a meal.

The kid nibbled a bite off the end of his croissant, at least, before Dib couldn't wait anymore and shot a question at him. "You believe me?" Dib couldn't believe it. He wasn't sure what to make of him besides. Dwicky had been the last person to believe him, and that hadn't ended well.

Squee, on the other hand, looked at Dib blankly. "Uh huh." Another bite nipped off the croissant and washed down with hot cocoa, Dib shifting this way and that, trying not to be too impatient. "They took my mom and dad away and after they came back they sent me to the Crazy House for Boys for a while. They used to try'n kidnap me a lot."  
A kindred spirit! "I was abducted when I was little, y'know," Dib said. "Wow, how'd you get out of that? They performed weird experiments on me! Weird experiments I can _barely remember._ Spooky, huh?"

"I told them to take my mom and dad," Squee said.

"Woah. Uh."

"Mommy doesn't love me and she's always taking pills," Squee said. "Daddy says I'm the worst mistake he's ever made and I'm a detriment to the happiness they once knew."

"Uh."

Squee slurped at his cocoa. "The crazy neighbor man says not to listen to them. But Shmee says not to listen to him, so I dunno. But Shmee says they deserved the aliens so I guess they say the same thing. Thanks for the cocoa."

"You're welcome," said Dib, completely on reflex. Then babbled on: "There's an alien in my class, y'know. His name's Zim and he's _here to take over the earth._"

"Would he enslave the whole earth? I wouldn't mind if an alien was in charge of the earth. Maybe he'd be nicer than people."

"Not _this_ guy. He's just the worst! He's green and _hideous_ and one time he almost sent me and the rest of the class to a dimension of _pure itching._"  
"How'd he send you to another dimension?"

"Oh, he didn't, I fixed it."

"How'd he almost?"

"Um, he used a wormhole. I saved my whole class! It was pretty great."

"Shmee says you're telling the truth," said Squee.

"Um, who's Shmee?"

"He's my bear." Squee stared at him with watery blue eyes. They pierced right into Dib's head, daring him to laugh, snort, do – anything. "He helps keep me safe."

Dib took a long drink of his latte. He thought about the lice lady and how he'd laughed at her, and put the coffee back down on the table with care.

"Are you sure it's not possessed?"

"He must be good if he is," Squee said. "He's usually right."

"Well, that's… lucky. That you got him looking out for you."

"I think maybe I'd have died if he didn't. Or gone crazy." Squee took another serious bite off his croissant. "He says that's what he's there for. To soak up all my potential crazy."

"Wow, that's rough."

Squee shrugged, dropping the croissant to take another sip of his cocoa.

"Do you need any help with anything?" Dib felt compelled to ask. "I'm here to tutor you."

"Not really," Squee said, with another tiny shrug of his narrow shoulders. "I hate skool. But at least if I'm here I'm not at home."

"Do you believe in ghosts?" Dib blurted, feeling a sudden panicked wave of wanting to forestall whatever uncomfortably cynical thing this kid who was younger than him seemed  
ready to say.

"Yeah, one lives in my room."

"Woah, you talked to her?"

"Yeah."

"Woah. How'd she die?"

"She choked on a McBloaty's Blissmeal toy," Squee said. "She says someday when I inevitably join her in the afterlife we can play. Sometimes I sleep on the sidewalk cuz of her."

"Woah. Uh, you want an exorcism done sometime?"

That piercing, watery-eyed stare again. Very seriously, Squee's head bobbed up and down, going nod, nod, nod, nod, nod.

Dib walked to the bus stop that was closest to the City Center for Disadvantaged Children What Suffer From the Headworms to get home with sort of conflicted feelings. He hadn't expected to actually like the kid he was tutoring, and it was some kind of windfall of unexpected awesomeness that the kid actually knew what he was talking about when it came to the supernatural! Nothing this good ever happened to him.

It was hard not to think about how scared the kid looked, though. His little hands weedling over each other and his eyes clamped on Dib's face, watching him like a hawk. Dib knew that look: watching for a laugh, or a smack. He felt... anxious, maybe. It was harder to leave than he expected.

He didn't have his bus card, it figured, so Dib dug around in his pockets til he had the correct change and bought his way into the aisle. He was so distracted thinking about Todd as he went towards the back of the bus that he didn't even notice the flexible, jointed spike of metal rising up over the back of a seat until it lashed out, caught him around the waist, and dragged him into the seat.

"- ZIM!" He flailed away! And nearly fell backwards into the aisle with Zim having let him go already, the alien backing up against the side of the bus with his jackboots on the seat, eyes narrowed.

"_Ksssss_." The perfect knee-jellifying hiss. If Dib hadn't heard it all before he might have been scared. Zim put his feet off the seat and got close to Dib again, the bus jumping as it took off from the curb. "Quiet, Dib-_stink_! Sit with Zim and tell him what you're up to."

Dib scooted away and sat on the edge of the seat, as far from Zim as he could really get. He folded his arms and glowered at the alien. He could be so annoying sometimes! "Uh, weren't you in the courtroom? You heard what they're making me do! I wasn't _up_ to anything."

"LIES."

"Shhh! Do you want to get us thrown off the bus?" Dib rolled his eyes. That had happened more than once before. "I don't wanna walk home."

"Ehh, better thrown off than strapped in with the rest of your dis_gus_ting race. You stay there. Block out the rest of them with your head."

"Why are you even here? You didn't have to take the bus at all!"

"I told you, human! I want to know what you're up to! I saw you with that tiny smeet, _talking_ to him, hours and hours! That wasn't _homework_, was it, _Diiiib?_" Zim paused. "ZIM HAS ASKED ABOUT YOUR DAY. Ask how Zim's day went! It was _horrible._ Thanks for asking!"

"_Qui-et,_ you'll get us kicked out, _again._" Dib paused. Rolled his eyes. "I didn't even ask about your day! God, who decided you were presentable in public?"

"My loving human mo-ther told me I looked delectably attractive by all human standards this morning, of course, you little monster." Zim even made air-quotes around the word "mother." At least nobody was looking at them, with all Zim's yelling. Then again, it was the city bus, and not a repository of social functionality. But how did no one else notice this kid was an alien again?

"Whatever." Dib gave it up as a bad job and folded his arms, glaring out the window around Zim's head for a minute. A minute, before Zim leaned forward and grimaced at Dib. "For how many hours are you obligated to slave yourself to society? Hehh?"

"You really weren't listening," Dib grumped. "Three hundred, Zim! I guess you cheated your way out of your own job already, huh, space-boy?"

"Ask _not_ about my job, Dib, unless you want to hear the saga of the sewer-dwelling mutant platypus society and their symbiotic relationship with... hnnngh... _dookie..._"

"Oh, man." Dib actually had to snicker. "That bad, huh?"

"Quiet!" Zim folded his own arms across his front, jutting his jaw out aggressively and sulkily in Dib's direction. Then slouched back against the seat, still giving Dib the same suspicious deadeye stare. "Don't think I don't know you're hiding things, human."

"Do they have chill pills on the armpit planet that spawned you, Zim?"

"NO! They don't!" Always with the dramatics! That yell made Zim flail up again, black-gloved fist quivering in front of Dib's nose, before he fell back and just glowered at Dib sulkily. Dib for his part ignored it and bent down to dig his book out of his backpack. Murakami's A Wild Sheep Chase. He'd read it before, but he liked the humor and the hero's search for his old friend, as he confronted an inexplicable force outside of humanity. It was a lot easier to pass time on the bus if he was reading anyway, and easier to ignore Zim glaring a hole in him, apparently thinking Dib would cough up all his secrets if he was stared at long enough. It wasn't happening!

The ride did go by fast, anyway. Dib hustled to get his book put away when Zim shoved at his shoulder at their stop, grabbing his backpack and shoving at Zim with the alien climbing right over him. They ran out of the bus without even getting yelled at, slowing down on the sidewalk mutually without even talking about it, governed by long acquaintance and rituals established over years of being ferocious rivals.

It was a little farther from Dib's house than Zim's, but it was an area of truce, mutually protected from both of them by dint of being a restaurant each of them liked: EAT! CHINESE!, eight exclamation points emphatically included in the name. Zim and Dib were regulars.

Zim shoved his way into the restaurant first, a happy jingle playing as he threw the door open and goose-stepped over to their usual booth. Dib followed more casually, covering up a yawn (it was the damn late-afternoon snoozies) with his backpack swung over his shoulder. Dib jumped into the seat opposite of Zim and rested his elbows on the table.  
Zim was still glaring. Dib stared right back, gave it a beat, and smiled provokingly, as big as he could, with all of his teeth. He gave it a second and then – yup. "Kssss, Dib. _Dib..._ Diiiiiib. Dib, Dib... _Dib._ DIB."

"What?" He said it through his teeth, keeping the smile on his face.

"_Diiiiiiiib..._ DIB. Diiiiib..."

"Uh huh?"

"Dib. Dib DIB _Diiiiiiib._ _DIB..._"

"_What?_"

"Hmh?" Zim stared at him.

"You were just yelling my name!"

"No I wasn't!"

"Yes you were, ten times I swear - " Dib gave up in the face of Zim's blank stare. "You weirdo. Just order your food."

"Mmh. Ah. EGG ROLLS! BRING ME EGG ROLLS, HUMAN WAGE SLAVE!" He screamed towards the back where the people worked. Dib smacked his hand over his face and let it slide down. He had long known Zim was an embarrassment. But it was a normal thing here. The workers glared, but always filled the order.

"Um," Dib rallied, "Sizzling rice soup for me please! And crab rangoon." He turned back to Zim, who was drumming his heels boredly against the underside of the booth. "What's your deal, space boy?"

"Heh?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"NOTHING! Quiet, you beast-smelly human. Tell Zim all your plans."

"I can't be quiet if I'm telling you my plans - "

"QUIET!"

Dib snickered. Zim glared. "Tell me your plans! NOW!"

"I thought you wanted me to be quiet."

"I'll take pleasure in raining fiery devastation down on your house in particular," Zim hissed.

"Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don't know," Dib said, and then raised one shoulder in an eminently don't-care shrug. "I dunno. It's pretty boring. It's kind of a complete waste of my time working there when I could be exposing paranormal phenomena to the populace."

"Ehh, really? Well, GOOD. It is fitting that your suffering should be vast!" Zim sat back in his booth, folding his arms and looking utterly pleased.

"Yeah, yeah." Dib was saved from further repartee by the arrival of the waitress, who plonked egg rolls in front of Zim and his dual order in front of Dib. He took a moment out to appreciate the hiss of crunchy rice hitting hot broth as she fixed his sizzling rice soup good to go, and then Dib felt lucky that Zim got quieter when he ate. With the croissant and coffee he'd noshed earlier, Dib didn't actually feel that hungry, but EAT! CHINESE!'s soup really couldn't be passed up.

Besides, watching Zim eat egg rolls was entertainment in itself. He snarled through his food, dousing each egg roll literally in sauce and gnashing his zipper-like teeth through hot pork and sliced vegetables. Dib slurped his soup and mentally ticked off a bingo list of expressions. There was the that-egg-roll-was-too-hot face, there was the that-egg-roll-had-something-that-wasn't-PORK-in-it face, there was the that-egg-roll-had-TOO-MUCH-pork face.

They were pretty quick eaters. Zim shoved his plate of egg rolls across the table towards Dib after maybe ten minutes, with Dib picking his way through the crab rangoon. "For YOU, stench beast," he shouted. "Yes! Eat with glee, my leavings are yours!"

"Uh, yuck. No thanks." Dib rolled his eyes for the ten-zillionth time that night. "I've still got food, check it out."

"You'll consume my pork leftovers and like it!" Zim snarled at Dib dramatically, and then – canted his head to the side. Abruptly sly, chainsaw voice dropping to a smooth purr. "I hope you're ready to give tonight your all, Dib-filth. I have so much prepared for you to suffer through. _So much._"

"Okay, um," Dib glanced side-to-side. Luckily the restaurant was mostly empty. "Hey, is anyone else hearing the freaky alien threatening my –"

"DIB!" Zim threw out an arm, pointed with a shaking fist over Dib's shoulder. "WHAT IS _THAT?_"

Like an idiot, of course Dib looked. And then kicked himself a second after as there was nothing, he turned around and – the booth across was empty, the bells on the door merely jingling in the aftermath of Zim's scarper.

"What the heck, he left me with the _bill!_" Dib stood up in a flail, digging for his wallet and throwing a twenty on the table. That'd cover it plus some – there was no time to waste getting change! He leaped off the chair and raced for the door himself.

Tonight's battle wouldn't just be for the fate of the earth. He'd be sure to make Zim cover _his_ check next time!

WOW I am sorry this took so long. I got so, so stuck on Dib and Squee's conversation, and then started a new job working 10.5 hours 5 days a week in a foreign country. I apologize for the wait and hope this chapter is enjoyable to make up for it. I welcome any criticism or commentary you might have to offer, too - especially on dialogue!


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